Seven Days of Smut 1: Midnight Delight Monday
by Sinister Scribe
Summary: Well, children, what does it sound like? One of these latenight House visits are gonna end like this. I'm sure of it. Adult content, language, ideas, themes and dogma. You have been warned.


Okay kiddies, this is just an idea I've been batting back and forth in that big empty space that is my head.

I give you; the first instalment of the 'Seven Days of Smut' saga. This is just a bit of fun that I'm going to add to when I feel like writing some mindless smut.

Yup, you heard me, every addition to the SDoS will just be a little one-shot type chappie of glorious adult minded fun. So if ye don't like it, don't read it.

I own none of the characters. Though, if I did, you can bet yer Hello Kitty knickers this would be on the show.

RATED FOR LANGUAGE, THEMES AND MY OWN BRAND OF HUMOUR.

Just a little fixing here and there for curlykiddo.

Anyways, read and review.

**Midnight-delight Monday**

Cuddy's eyes snapped open as a sudden sound alerted her to a presence in her house. She lifted her head slowly and let a small frown mar her features. There was someone in her home. Rolling to the edge of her bed, she reached down and under the mattress so that her fingers could close over the cold slick surface of a wooden case. She flipped the catch and worked the lid open blindly. She didn't switch on the light, she knew her house. Instead, she closed her fingers around the heavy weight of the colt forty five and lifted the veritable cannon out from its plush velvet lined case. She flipped the chamber and checked it in the moonlight streaming in through the window. Three of the chambers were full, if she needed more than that she was probably screwed anyway.

She slipped from the bed and padded to the door, her gun clasped in a two handed grip and pointing at the floor. The strap of her camisole top slipped down over one shoulder and she didn't bother to right it. She tossed her hair out of her eyes with a flick of her head and stepped out into the shadows of the hallway. Anger burned low and dangerous in her belly. How dare someone come into her house?

It was her space. Her private freaking abode thank-you-very-much. Her escape and now she had some balaclava masked pillock wandering about in the dead of night trying to steal her grandmother's silver tea service.

There was a thump of bone connecting with something solid and a grunt of pain. A soft swearing streak ensued and Cuddy frowned. She reached up and snapped the light on. Light filled the living room and the intruder staggered to the side in surprise as light stabbed his eyes. She levelled the gun at his chest, her grip easy and assured. This would not be the first time she had fired the weapon but she had no intention of shooting the guy. Blood stains were an absolute bitch to get out of cream carpet. Her jaw dropped in surprise as she recognised the intruder.

"House?!" She demanded.

He blinked at her, unused to the bright light that she had just inflicted on him. She was less affected because she was still standing in the shadow of the hallway.

"Jesus, Cuddy! Is that a gun?" He stared at the heavy weight in her hand and she felt the cool slick metal against her thigh where it rested.

"Yes, it's a gun. What the hell are you doing in my house? I could have shot you!" She hissed at him in disgust and walked into the room and into the light.

House could only stare. He knew it was a hot summer's night. He knew that she favoured the lacy bits of nothing for underwear but...good god was that _Hello Kitty_ on the front of those panties? Lisa Cuddy, boss of him, stood before him in nothing but a tank top that rode high over her flat toned belly and tiny buttercup yellow panties that had a familiar white kitten's face emblazoned over them. Made all the more incongruous by the delightful mussing of bed head that she had and the cannon that she held in one hand. Seriously, how did she manage to lift all that firepower?

He dragged his eyes back to her face with difficulty. "Wow, should I fear for my life or get frisky?"

Her eyes widened out of their scowl and her eyes dropped to look over her own body. Her cheeks flamed as she went to the couch and dragged the throw off of it and around her body toga style. She covered her chronic embarrassment by gesturing with the huge gun and demanding sharply of him.

"Why are you in my house? It's after three in the morning!"

"I'm aware of the time." He sniped at her and tried to cover his distinctly lusty feelings with his sarcasm. "What I wasn't aware of was that you were carrying." He gestured to the gun that was still pointed vaguely in his direction.

"This is New Jersey,_ everybody_ carries!" She hissed at him and lowered the throw to wrap it around her hips instead of her shoulders. It was just too damn hot for this.

He stepped closer to her and reached out for the gun, which she promptly denied him. "You're not going to shoot me." He told her and reached for it again.

"The jury's still out on that one, bucko. Start explaining or I start ventilating." She gestured though the both knew he was perfectly safe. The safety was on and she was pointing the million mile barrel of the gun at the floor.

Mostly.

"Where did you even get that thing? Do you know how to shoot it?" He was really more interested in finding out about the Modesty Blaise Cuddy than he was about admitting why he was here.

"My brother's a cop and of course I know how to shoot it. Do you have any idea how many accidents there are with idiots that don't know how to operate or maintain a gun?" She demanded and spun on her heel to go back and put the gun away. There was no way she was leaving it lying around where he could get his hands on it. "And you still haven't told me why you're here." She reminded him, calling from her bedroom as she locked the gun safely away and rose to her feet again. She yelped as she came face to steely pectoral with his chest.

He wasn't looking at her though, he was watching the bed.

"Send the latest toy boy home already?" He mocked her as he circled her and sank down onto her mattress. She stared at him incredulously.

"You're here because you think I was on a _date_?!" Anyone else would have heard the nuclear warning klaxon at this point and would have begun to barricade themselves into the bathroom with their mattress over the door, but not House. He loved a nuclear Cuddy.

"Ah, I know how it is Cuddy, in that post coital bliss you just turned to him and said those three little words." She planted her hands on her hips and he enjoyed the view, she probably had no idea that her camisole was nearly transparent in this light.

"And what would those three little words be?" She asked low and dangerous.

He smirked at her. "Go. Home. Now." He delivered cheerfully and she scowled at him and pointed to the door.

"Take your own advice, you...over possessive Neanderthal." She finally settled on after a moment of thought.

"Me? Possessive?" House planted a hand on his chest and tried his innocent face. It was the new one that incorporated the puppy-dog eyes into it. He had been practicing on Cameron all week.

"I don't see any other idiots in this room." She snapped at him and jabbed a sharp finger into his chest. Ignoring the fission of heat that seared up her arm at even that contact. There was something about these hot balmy nights and the way her magnolia tree was in full bloom outside her window and filling the house with its scent. Something that always reminded Cuddy of long hot nights spent between cool sheets. "The only reason you're breaking into my house is so you could check that I was alone and the only reason you want me to be alone is so that no one else can have my attention and keep it from you!" She panted with the effort her vitriol was costing her.

"I still think 'Neanderthal' was uncalled for." He informed her. "And I did have a stellar reason for being here that did not revolve around you and the fun-bags." He sniffed at her even as his mind raced to think of something that could be construed as stellar. She folded her arms over her chest and he was almost disappointed to see the twins go but this new position revealed the tantalising curve of her hips and the barest hint of the cute pink bows that rode low on her curves and tied her underwear together.

"Well?"

"I was lonely." He told her with a mocking grin so that she would never guess that it was the truth. "But hey, you're alone too." He let his eyes rove over her. "Let's be not lonely together." He offered and lifted a hand, hooking one finger under the edge of the pink strap of her camisole and dragging it upwards over the soft curve of her shoulder. He watched her turn her head to watch his progress over her body. Her lips parted in the barest acknowledgement of their physical contact.

They didn't touch unless circumstances were dire. It was one of their rules. Unspoken but always heard and he had just broken it...he wondered what else he could get away with tonight.

"Wilson's not safe either you know." He wished he could bite back the words but his body had endured enough of the dry spell, thanks bunches, and wanted nothing more than to thoroughly immerse itself with the zesty female in front of him. His own mouth was having a mutiny against his brain.

Fabulous.

Her gaze had flown to his and her lips parted further in shock before her mouth clicked shut and she regained a semblance of control. "Wilson's a friend, he's not my type." She told him and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"And what type is it that you want?" He asked, his mouth still in the driving seat while his brain had taken to cowering in a corner of his skull and whimpering something about the best laid plans of mice gone awry. She glared at him, taking refuge in anger.

"My type would be someone that actually treats me like a woman." She snapped and reeled internally, hold the phone, this wasn't how she was supposed to respond to that question. This was a carefully choreographed sequence that they danced every day. They each had their feints and parries each so well practiced that they could have sparred blindfold but now...now the kid gloves were off and they were playing for keeps here. "Someone who isn't afraid of me and what he might feel for me. Someone who might actually get his cane out of his ass and take action after twenty years!" She reared backwards from him as if he'd slapped her as her words echoed within her own head. He looked down at her, his expression mirroring her shock and she swallowed hard. She recovered quickly though. Falling back into the same steps that they had traced a thousand times over.

"House, I'm tired and it's late, why don't you just go-mmf!" Her words were swallowed by his mouth as it crashed down over hers. She reeled as his arm came around her waist and his other hand buried in her hair, angling her head more fiercely to his. His tongue slid into her mouth, trailing fire as it writhed against hers. There was a clatter of wood against wood as he tossed his cane away and it struck against something that was probably important. He turned her and she gave no protest as he pushed her down onto the bed. He threw her sheets out of the way and dragged the throw from the couch away from her hips and tossed it away in a flair of heavy fabric. He never once broke the searing contact of his mouth with hers as he wriggled his way out of his jacket with her eager fingers aiding him.

"House, we shouldn't..." Her voice was a harsh groan as his lips slid down her neck and arrowed straight down to the straining peak of one spiked nipple. His tongue lapped her through the thin cotton of her top and her back arched. Her half-hearted protests completely forgotten as all thought process took a southern bypass. His long fingers gripped the hem and bunched it upwards, only lifting his mouth from her aching breast when he could push the material out of the way and let his lips settle over warm silky soft skin. She moaned wordlessly as his thumb flicked over her other nipple. Her leg wrapped high around his hips and she ground up against him so that her kitty could kiss the straining fly of his jeans.

"Evil underwear..." He muttered as he pulled her camisole up and over her head. Taking the time to stop and sift his fingers through her hair. God, he loved her hair. So dark and silky soft. There was so much of it and, he buried his nose in the dark tresses inhaling her scent, it smelled so good. His fingers plucked at those tiny pink bows at her hips and he grinned in satisfaction as he pulled the silky scrap of nothing away from her body so that she was completely gloriously naked to him.

Stitching creaked as she hauled his tee shirt up and over his head before flinging it away and spreading her hands over the heated skin of his chest. She enjoyed the feel of sparse hair arrowing down over his chest towards his belly and...lower. She followed the direction and unsnapped his jeans with an expert flick of her wrist. Her hands were redirected to gripping his hair as he met her lips with his own once more in another scorching kiss. She solved her dilemma by pushing his jeans down with her heel. He growled into her mouth and she could feel his smirk as the hot satin steel length of him brushed with shocking contact against her silken heat. She hissed a gasp at the so good feel of him against her...she wondered how much better he would feel inside her and couldn't wait to find out.

"Now..." She urged him and flipped him onto his back with a rather ruthless grin on her lips. She straddled him as he sat up, his lips meeting hers as his chest brushed tantalisingly over hers. "I want to know..." She told him as she writhed her hips over his. He choked and threw back his head, the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief as her playful movements had him on a knife edge.

"What?" He gasped tilting his face back to hers and gripping her hips in a hard, almost painful grip. She would have bruises tomorrow, but neither of them cared. "What do you want to know?" He urged her when she was momentarily lost in the task of teasing him mercilessly.

"What is this?" She demanded, her arousal slipping over his in a blaze of heated sensation.

"It's called an erection." He said on a weak smirk and she arched a brow at him as her nails dug into his shoulders and then she pulled away from him. He snatched her desperately back towards him and said the first thing that came into his head. "It's not just sex!" His chest heaved, slick with sweat as her eyes met his and searched his gaze. She didn't want this to be just him saying what she wanted to hear in order to get some. He met her eyes more bravely than she could have his and spoke slowly and clearly to her. "If we do this, and it really is inevitable, then you're mine. I own you." He told her and buried a hand in her hair. "If you don't want that, get off." His words were harsh and not exactly hearts and flowers but then...she had never expected that from him.

Her lips met his in a desperate kiss as her legs flexed and she sank down onto him in a welter of long anticipated sensation. They fit together perfectly. He sank deep inside her and touched her in places no other man had ever seemed to reach. Their kiss never broke even as they moaned together in bliss. They just stayed like that for a few moments. His arms wrapped around her and his fingers buried in her hair as he kissed her as fiercely as she was kissing him. She shivered around him and he grinned against her lips and tilted her onto her back, enjoying the feeling of jolting inside her and the expression of shocked ecstasy that crossed her face at the movement. She was so responsive, the lightest of caresses from him wrung incredible responses from her.

She bit his lip to have his full and undivided attention. "Mine." She told him with satisfaction when she was sure he wasn't thinking about anything but her. Like he could be thinking about anything else.

He chuckled and kissed her back. "Mine more." He insisted and rocked his hips against hers. Her laugh changed to a groan of pleasure and her legs wrapped more tightly around his as she gripped his shoulders. His muscles strained and flexed as he powered into her. They had done the gentle thing and now he just wanted her as hard and as fast as they could both take it. Soft and sweet could wait until next time. Right now there was twenty years of inaction to make up for.

His hands found hers and his fingers threaded with hers. He pinned them above her head against the soft firmness of the mattress. His lips and tongue duelled against hers as he thrust leisurely into her. Every movement pushing her higher and causing her to gasp and writhe under him. He loved that, the little mewling gasp of pleasure she gave when he twisted his hips just like that.

"Greg!" She called his name and it stroked over him like a hand of sunlight. It had been so long since she had called him by that name. For so long he had been just house and now he finally had his name back because it had only ever sounded truly right coming from her lips.

"Lisa..." He breathed against her as he thrust hard into her with a bone jarring impact that she revelled in. Other men had been afraid of hurting her, she was so small, so delicate looking but Greg knew her. He knew she was made of the same steel he was. He knew exactly how hard he could push them both.

He knew her.

Those words froze in her mind as pleasure burst in a firework streak along her spin and burst throughout her entire body. She'd finally reached overload and he held onto her all the way through the fiery bliss that lashed her nerve endings. So intense it was nearly painful. He shouted against her skin, his teeth leaving a purpling stain against her pale skin, as he followed her up to the moon and back.

He collapsed against her, chest heaving and sweat already cooling on their bodies as they lay side by side and tried to recover. Her cheek rested against his chest, his heart thundering strong under her ear as she panted softly between gently parted lips. His arm came around her shoulders and just held her closer to him. He didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin it, she didn't seem to be of the same opinion. She lifted her head and propped her chin on her hand, her elbow digging into his ribs as she grinned down at him.

"Greg, I'm thinking of three little words." She informed him and he frowned for a moment. His brain momentarily addled. He blinked as he remembered to what she was referring.

"Huh." He grunted. "You tell me to go home and I'll club you over the head with my cane and take you with me." He tried for disdain but it had a distinctly knackered quality to it that didn't quite have the biting impact he was hoping for.

She shook her head. Still grinning and crawled up over his chest so that her hair fell in a curtain down by the side of his face. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight as she bit her lip in an attempt to rein in her grin. "Those weren't the three words I was thinking of." She told him and her fingers tiptoed across his chest, over his throat and tilted his face to hers.

"Really?" He smirked, slowly catching on. "And what were you thinking then?"

"Guess."

His hand lifted to stroke the side of her face and then slide into the thick mass of her hair. A slow smile kicked his lips. "I love you."

She smirked at him. "What a coincidence...that's just what I was going to say." His eyes widened as he realised she had just tricked him and he opened his mouth with a hot denial only to have his mouth pull another mutiny and refuse to cooperate. She smiled down at him and then let her head rest over his heart once more. It took him a further few moments to realise why.

But he did get it.

Eventually.


End file.
